Power
by Nyteblade
Summary: A short story about the night before The Final Battle. The ritual was agreed to, and Alistair has other things in mind besides getting a good night's rest. Rated M for various adult themes. Also, plays off the blood motif of the game.


_My first Fanfic! I've started another more "fluffy" love story from the Female Cousland angle, but this one forced me to write it. Responses and Reviews are very welcome! (Also, I'm loving each and every one of the Dragon Age stories here, you peoples have some serious talent!)_

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He stumbled, not seeing. Blinded by guilt, fear, lust and anger he felt his way to her room by memory alone. The sturdy coolness of the stones did nothing to center him. All he could feel was the witch's skin. Warm, yet distantly chilly as if her personality had clad her form in its icy repose. His body wretched at the thought of her smell still clinging to him. His legs gave way, his stomach heaving dry.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Not tonight. And as long as he drew breath, he would not allow the night to end without a release more worthy of the man he had become. The man who would be king.

He reached her door. A fiery glow from underneath it fueled his emotions, as unclear as they might be. He gave the doorknob a swift turn. Locked. Anger bubbled up within him, frothing to foam in his frenzied mind. "Nice try." He snarled to the door, as if the door locked itself.

Alistair exploded. Rearing back, he kicked at the door with the wrath of a dozen demons. As he was a man possessed, his desire for the woman inside the room, his fury at what she had asked him to do, his fear of losing her completely concentrated in the pit of his being gave him strength he had never known. It was effortless, guided by power he hadn't dare tap. Until now.

_The more I give to you, the more I die!_

The door exploded into splinters and metal hinges sparked as they skidded across the stone floor. He stepped over the threshold, his eyes shimmered a pale glittering blue, ethereal mist clouding out of them, an evil smirk creeping onto his face.

"It is done…and yet not over." He said to figure on the bed, in a voice that was unlike his own. It carried through the halls, echoing for any who chose to listen.

_And I want you._

The woman was not taken by surprise; she had felt his heat long before he reached her bedroom. His soul was intertwined with hers that much she was sure of. His hands, his mouth, his body knew hers well. His gentle touch had brought her to crescendos of pleasure many times before. Clumsy caresses and awkward embraces had turned comfortable, secure.

Tonight, she knew, would be…different. She would submit to the power she could feel his body radiating even from a distance. Crouching low on the bed, she assumed at a catlike pose ready to unleash a little power of her own. She could be just a dangerous and alluring as he.

He was on her in an instant, crushing his body to hers. Fingers digging into flesh. He had pushed the woman's body up against the ornately carved headboard, pinning her between its unforgiving frame and his flushed, muscled form. His scorching mouth seeking hers, his tongue piercing, tasting. Their breath mingled, coming in short gasps as she struggled to catch it, his fervor crushing her.

_You make me hard, when I'm all soft inside_

His mouth sought out her neck, violently nipping at the soft flesh. His teeth leaving satisfying marks on the skin. Knowing they would be bruises by morning, he relished the thought of marking her as his own. He took her earlobe between her lips and teased it with his tongue. His breath was hot in her ear, bringing her pleasure to a rolling boil.

_Without you everything just falls apart_

His hand gripped her wrist and pinned it behind her, still holding her body with his, he fervently ripped her flimsy night shirt, exposing her body to the firelight and his hungry eyes. Her free hand clawed at his back, as she dug her fingernails hard into his bare back. Spots of blood appeared under her grip. He felt no pain, for he was beyond that now. He had unleashed his ardor; there was only pleasure and one goal. Release.

_You are the perfect drug_

The lover's bodies writhed together in a state of fierce ecstasy. Silk sheets, a shredded, messy victim of an act that was purely animal in nature. Moans, cries, mewls of pleasure resonated in the room.

Alistair gazed at the woman that lies beneath him, naked and vulnerable yet possessing so much power over him he shuddered at the thought. It was gone in an instant as he reached for one of her blades.

The dagger shone in the dying fire's flames, it's silverite blade was deadly sharp. Alistair's eyes began to flicker with pale blue yet again as he placed the blade against his chest, making a small nick in his skin. A tiny rivulet of blood snaked down him. He leaned forward, making an identical cut above his lover's breast. She gasped.

He bent his mouth to the wound, tasting her life's essence. It was warm on his lips. His eyes were brightly glowing now, her power mingling with his.

She willed him closer, her mouth hungry to taste him. His wound dripped as her lips made contact. His body tensed as the fiery sensation ran throughout him. She met his gaze as her eyes flared the misty blue known to their kind. A dangerously playful smile crossed her radiant face.

They sought each other for a kiss, each of them tasting themselves from the other. Liquid fire coursed through their bodies. It heightened every sense, set nerves aflame. His restraint had come to an end. Clothes dissolved into nothingness, either torn away or shredded to the point of falling off.

Alistair picked her up as if she was a rag doll, deftly flipping her to her stomach. She growled as he forced her to her knees, his hands roughly positioning her hips in front of him. Without warning, he entered her forcefully, relishing in both the pain and pleasure of the cry that escaped her. He pulled back and penetrated her again and again. Her cries turned to craving moans, each stroke pushing her closer to the edge of reality.

Still inside her, he turned her over, wrapping her legs around his waist. He continued his assault on her depths with reckless abandon. Giving over to the sensations, he bit at her shoulder, his wet mouth sought a nipple. Furiously tugging it between his teeth, he was almost to the brink.

The air had taken on dark, almost primordial scent. A smell of rich loam and smoke permeated the air making it seem thick, almost tangible. It enveloped the couple in a shadowy embrace.

Time seemed to slow for the lovers as they moved as one. The two bodies, in sync to some unheard song. Muscles constrict and relax in a measured, deliberate rhythm. Alistair crushed his love to him as he expelled his essence deep within her. Her body spasming in time with his. Their hearts racing, the release they hungered for seemed to ignite the very air.

Around them, glass shattered. Windows, vases and oil lamps exploded into millions of sparkling pieces. Held in thrall by the power that emanated from the young lovers, the fragments hung mid air, suspended. The room took on the appearance of a night sky, darkness, with pin points of light breaking through.

_Take me with you… _

The two gasped for air, as if they had been underwater for too long.

The glass shards clattered to the floor.

_Without you, it's not as much fun to pick up the pieces_.

Sleep came swiftly. Dreamless and peaceful, the sins of the night being washed away as dawn awaited beyond the horizon.


End file.
